On Rape and Empowerment, Cont'd

Editor’s Note: This article previously appeared in a different format as part of The Atlantic’s Notes section, retired in 2021.

Readers keep the important conversation going:

Your reader makes a good point about people who do not realize that what they did was rape—but I also think it’s important for activists to make clear that there’s a distinction between these people and intentional, predatory rapists.

The latter are always going to exist, and they are not going to be swayed by a change in culture. The former are not necessarily callous people, and for them it’s not about power; it is just about sex. Lumping these two groups together as if their crimes are equally heinous is, I think, counterproductive. You’re not going to win over a man who makes bad choices when the line of consent is blurry if you treat him as if he’s holding a knife to the woman’s throat.

I think it necessitates a change in tactics (that “don’t be that guy” campaign your reader mentioned is, I think, a step in the right direction). But more importantly, it necessities a change in rhetoric within the movement.

Another reader raises a further issue, illustrated in the above PSA:

One way to address prevention without blaming victims and survivors is to focus on the potential role of bystanders.

Decades of research on sexual violence has shown that rape often occurs in contexts where we, through our cultural dialogues and habits, are not expecting it—for example, when the perpetrator is known to the victim, or rather than using extreme physical force, the perpetrator uses alcohol/substances/verbal threats. Contrary to being harmless, these rapes affect survivors in so many ways and for potentially long periods of time.

As a community we can use this knowledge to be proactive bystanders, recognizing that situations we assume to be part of the “normal” experience of socializing and sex are often environments with high-risk factors for sexual assault. By being aware of the risks, we can be more vigilant of our friends and those around us, taking on a community-level responsibility for prevention as opposed to an individual-level responsibility.

One pitfall is to assume that prevention means abandoning all environments of risk, when in fact prevention can be maintaining a higher level of awareness and caution in those places (e.g. drinking environments). And we can be less doubtful and more supportive of individuals who come forward to report a rape.

Another approach to prevention that leaves blame with perpetrators is educating young people on sexual assault and coercive interpersonal behavior, again in an effort to reduce the social myths about “normal sex” that enable sexual predators. Promisingly, holding multiple information sessions on these topics with middle school students over a period of two to three months led to decreased reports of sexual victimization and predatory actions among participants several years later.

And finally, a word of caution about empowerment. Those who experience sexual assault cruelly and unjustly have their power wrested from them in that moment by a perpetrator. Regaining power is a complicated, crucial, and unique journey, and conversations about empowerment in a context of healing are different than conversations about empowerment in a context of prevention.

The backdrop for this conversation, after all, is a reality where 67 to 80 percent of acts that meet a Justice Department definition of “rape or sexual assault victimizations” are not reported to police.  Society and survivors alike have a strong tradition of already placing plenty of power with victims and not with perpetrators. Unfortunately so many conversations about rape are pandering and petty arguments over the use of words, anecdotes, and analogies, when there is enough consistent data and research available for us to ground our conversations in reality and focus on solutions.

Anything important we’ve missed in the discussion so far? Drop us a note.